


High-Sticking and Power Plays

by shortystylee



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Meet-Cute, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-26
Updated: 2017-12-07
Packaged: 2018-03-09 05:20:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 22,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3237791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shortystylee/pseuds/shortystylee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gendry unexpectedly runs into the only other Winterfell Direwolves hockey fan in Kings Landing - Arya Stark.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> From a tumblr prompt (user astraias): the only two people at a bar rooting for the same football team AU. I know nothing of football, so here's hockey.

The Bear and Maiden Fair Brewpub and Tavern was located on the northwest side of Kings Landing, in an area that had originally been mostly blue-collar, working class type families. The streets twenty, hell, even five years ago had still been lined with shops catering to the daily needs of its residents - a corner grocery, bakery, post office, the normal every day things. In the time it took for Gendry to move away from the area down to Storms End for university and move back, the rising cost of living in Kings Landing was forcing hordes of young professionals away from downtown and other neighborhoods and into his old stomping grounds. There were new stores popping up between the old ones, gradually filling up the two main cross streets with health food stores, pay-by-the-ounce frozen yogurt and cupcake shops, an Urban Outfitters, an upscale Dornish tapas restaurant, you name it. Perhaps most unexpected, The Bear and the Maiden Fair had added 'brewpub' to its name, added a bunch of standard pub food and mounted televisions all over.

 

He had a job at a graphic design agency located downtown, and he guessed he couldn't complain too much, since just like the rest of them, he'd also moved to that neighborhood to escape the downtown housing costs, not just because he grew up there. The Bear was his favorite spot, his mother had worked a second job there when he was younger and he'd spent many hours sitting at the counter doing his homework. Nowadays, he was there at least twice a week after work, not for dinner, but he simply wanted to get a pint, maybe a plate of chips and salsa, and watch the hockey game on one of the many big screens.

 

The only issue was that there was no way in the seven hells he was he'd be caught dead cheering on the Crownland Stags. He was used to being the only person rooting for the Winterfell Direwolves. Hockey was big at his school in Storms End, and his freshman year he had watched the Direwolves play a charity game against their minor league affiliate, the Storms End Lightning, and he was head over heels for them since then.

 

He was getting frustrated at this evening's game, and then just at the beginning of the second period one of the referees blew their whistle, waved his arms to indicate "high sticking" and "Winterfell," and Gendry slammed his fist down on the counter when the two minute penalty was announced.

 

"Come on! What the hell?! Two minutes for high sticking? I'll show you godsdamned high sticking!"

 

It was almost like in a movie. Where someone yells and automatically it's like all the sound is vacuumed out of the room, and the crowd turns in unison to stare. Across the bar he saw a young girl standing up yelling, practically fuming over the ref's call. She wore a grey and white Winterfell jersey with the name STARK across the back and the number 11 below it. _Don't see too many Stark jerseys with Ned's number on it these days_ , he thought. _It's all golden boy number 3 Robb now_. She was small, he'd noticed since the jersey was practically a dress on her, her short wavy hair spun around in an unruly manner as she shook her fist at the television, and from even thirty feet away he could see something feisty and fiery in the way her eyes lit up in shock. Before he knew what he was doing, he'd picked up his beer and walked over to the booth where she had finally sat down.

 

"Listen," she started, not bothering to look up and acknowledge him, "I'm sorry if my loudness is interrupting your meal, it's just, well, that call was --"

 

"That call was shit, was what it was."

 

She looked up and smiled at him, like she'd finally found someone that understood. "Wanna sit down?" she asked, scooting over on the booth, obviously meaning for him to sit on the same side as her so they could both see the big screen. "I figure that maybe us Winterfell fans gotta stick together."

_Oh, what the hell? You've been coming to this bar all the time and this is the first time that any girl has wanted to talk to you... and it just happens to be an attractive one who likes Winterfell._

 

"'Specially in a Stags bar," Gendry replied and took the seat offered. He introduced himself, learned her name was Arya, but there wasn't as much time for small talk when they were busy yelling at the Direwolves to keep it together during the Stags' power play. He was having a hard time concentrating on the game, when it was much more fascinating to watch her get all worked up, or follow her eyes as they raced along with the puck on the screen, or listen to her whisper, "Come on, Robb, godsdammit you can do this," as he broke away with the puck. It was satisfying to watch Robb Stark get a short-handed goal, but it was even better to cheer along with Arya and help drown out all the groans and boos from the rest of the crowd.

 

She had jumped up and out of her seat, not much taller than Gendry even though he was sitting down, and then wrapped her arms around him in a messy hug, yelling something along the lines of, "Yes! In your face, Kings Landing!" but he wasn't sure when all he could concentrate on was how close she was to him all of a sudden. A second later, the puck dropped again and she removed her arms from around his shoulders and sat back down, but not before flagging a waitress for two more beers.

 

He noticed now that the jersey she wore wasn't a new reproduction - usually those were just retired players' names sewn on the back of whatever the current jersey style happened to be. The one she wore was older, a bit faded, and looked like it had seen better days. _Gods, what I wouldn't give for a Ned Stark jersey._

 

"Not too often you see someone with a Ned Stark jersey," Gendry mentioned during a time out towards the end of the second period. They hadn't made much real conversation at all, they were all loud cheers, harassing the ref, or finding different names to call the Stag players. "Especially one from that era. You know how much those go for on eBay, yea?"

 

"Well, it's not too often to you see someone in Kings Landing who doesn't root for a Stag or a Lion," she teased. "And yes, I do know how much they go for on eBay. I'm never getting rid of this one though... my dad gave it to me, as a present, years ago. He's not, umm... he passed away, a few years back," she added quietly.

 

"Hey," he started to say as he sat a bit closer, and maybe against his better judgment grabbed a hold of her left hand that was resting on the booth. "I know. I lost my mom my junior year of university," he said. He took a second to unbutton his work shirt, fully knowing that he was confusing her, but he watched her eyes widen when he reached inside his t-shirt and pulled out a gold seven-pointed star necklace. "It was hers. Don't think I believe in any of it, but that doesn't really matter. I think they'd both want us to enjoy the game though."

 

"He would," she agreed as the puck dropped again at the end of the time out. "And he'd be over the moon if he'd witnessed Robb's goal. Fuck me, that was awesome."

 

The last five minutes of the second period were shaping up to be the most exciting the game had seen so far. Arya and Gendry were as loud as they'd ever been, until the Stags forward Blount skated full-force into Direwolf number 45 Umber, cross-checking him into the glass. Both Arya and Gendry jumped to their feet to watch as the rest of both teams rallied around them, sticks were thrown to the wayside, gloves were yanked off, and punches started to fly.

 

They were both too busy yelling at a nearby table of middle-aged men in Stag t-shirts to notice the general manager walking up from behind.

 

XxXxX

 

Five minutes later, they were outside, sitting on the curb underneath an orange street light.

 

"I cannot believe you got us kicked out of The Bear... shit, I've been coming to this place since before I could see over the counter," Gendry said. He wasn't angry, he'd had an amazing time so far that evening, but knew that getting kicked out was only going to make the time with her come to a close sooner.

 

"I did _not_ get us kicked out, if anything it was you and your... Wait. Before you could see over the counter?"

 

He nodded. "My mom used to work here. I'd come after school to do my homework. Wasn't into hockey then, but this place wasn't exactly a sports bar fifteen years ago."

 

"I'd never have guessed," she said. "I've been into hockey all my life. Raised on the ice, actually. Some of my best memories are playing pond hockey in the winter with my brothers, even my sister would join in, but I think she really just wanted to be a figure skater. I grew up in Winterfell... played high school hockey and some at UW Winterfell, before I transferred down here, but I was nowhere near as good as my brothers or my dad..."

 

They sat in silence for another moment or so, until Arya looked over at the time on her phone and finally stood up off the curb.

 

"So, I figure we've got about ten minutes before the third period starts. You wanna come over and watch the rest of the game? I'm just a block or two away."

 

He watched as she reached her hand out to him, as if a hundred pounds of her could possibly help him stand up, but he took it anyways. _In for a silver, in for a dragon_ , he thought, a phrase his mother used to always say to him. She surprised him when she didn't drop his hand immediately after he stood, instead she clung to it until they arrived at the front entrance to her building.

 

She bent down to get the mail out of the little metal box on the wall next to the door, which was when Gendry noticed the name tag below her apartment number.

 

"Holy shit...," he managed to eke out. _It's official. I am the stupidest person in all of Westeros._

 

"Finally figured it out, huh?" she asked. Arya grabbed her mail, shoving it into her messenger bag and locking the mailbox door again. "... took ya long enough."

 

"Your father is Ned Stark... _the_ Ned Stark... and that jersey... that's _his_ jersey..." Gendry knew he must've looked awful, mouth hanging open and staring at her incredulously.

 

"Oh, don't go all fanboy on me now, Gendry," she said, pretending to pout. "And just when I was starting to think I liked you."

 

Forming a coherent sentence was not something he was able to do at that moment. He was too busy processing everything that had happened that night, from meeting another Direwolves fan randomly in Kings Landing, watching Robb Stark - her brother - make a short-handed goal, to getting kicked out of the bar for being too rowdy, to _...wait. Did she just say she likes me?_

 

Gendry felt her hand grab his again and he looked down at her. "Seven hells, Gendry, snap out of it," she said as she opened the door to her building, tugging him along with her. He followed a step behind her on the stairs. "You've got plenty of time to worship my Winterfell hockey memorabilia later, but I swear to all the gods that if you make me miss any of the third period, you _will_ regret it."


	2. Chapter 2

It’s the first time Arya had watched a hockey game with a guy who actually respected the damned game. She’d had plenty of dates over before, all who’d said that they’d love to watch the game with her, but when it came down to it, they couldn’t even make it halfway through the first period without trying to get handsy. _This isn’t Netflix and chill, this is hockey and pay a-fucking-ttention. It’s really not that hard of a concept._

 

Not Gendry. He followed her up the stairs and into her small studio apartment, which she was happy was big enough to fit a loveseat so that they wouldn’t have to awkwardly try to watch the game from the mattress on the floor in the corner, covered in pillows and old blankets, which passed for her bed. She saw him notice the framed posters she had on the wall, some of old Winterfell championship teams with signatures, newspaper pages, and a family picture out on the ice at the local rink back home.

 

“Have a seat,” she said, grabbing the remote from the tiny ledge that separated the galley-style kitchen from the rest of the apartment. She clicked the TV on, and it was already on the correct channel, with the two regular announcers discussing the plays and calls from the previous period. She grabbed two drinks from the fridge, remembering what he’d been drinking earlier at The Bear, along with a family-size back of barbeque potato chips, and joined him to watch the game. The countdown timer in the corner of the screen showed less one minute until the third period starts.

 

“Just in time,” she said as she sat down next to him, setting down the food on the IKEA coffee table that was still littered with whatever she’d snacked on the night before. “I promise, you can check out all my Winterfell stuff once the game is done.”

 

He nodded, looking over at her for a quick second before the intermission was over and the puck was dropping again.

 

After twenty minutes of nail-biting game play, a ridiculous number of shots on goal, the most adorable group of local school children shoveling the ice during a commercial, the next door neighbors pounding on the wall for them to quiet down, and two penalties on each side, the score was still tied at 2-2.

 

“Well, at least we get some bonus hockey, right?” Arya said. She was a bit disappointed that the Direwolves hadn’t been able to eke out a goal the whole period… she’d texted Robb about a dozen times to tell him to get his team together, even though she knew he wouldn’t see it until he was back in the locker room afterwards.

 

“It’s pretty late and I’ve already invaded your apartment long enough,” Gendry replied. “I should probably head home.”

 

She turned to her left and looked at him like his was out of his mind. “What? No, no. You’ve gotta stay, you can’t miss the end of the game,” she started. “It’s only five minutes and then maybe a shoot-out. _Maybe_. Please don’t make me beg. I can make pretty convincing puppy dog eyes when I really need to.”

 

“Alright, alright, but no more beers,” he said. “I still need to successfully find my way home after this.”

 

There were four more minutes of tedious action, shots on the Stags goal were blocked, shots on the Direwolves goal were blocked, _thank the gods for Karstark_ , Arya thought. Gendry watched silently, hands with white knuckles gripping the edge of the loveseat cushions tightly, with Arya next to him quietly chanting that they could do this, and _just one more goal boys, is that too much to fucking ask right now?_ Arya’s hand darted out and grabbed Gendry’s when the clocked ticked over to 59 seconds, tearing it away from its death grip on the cushion. Her eyes were still aimed straight at the television, ignoring the surprised look he gave her.

 

And then, finally, a break. The Direwolves number 17 left winger Jory Cassel seemed to skate down the ice out of nowhere, as if the gods had just dropped him there on purpose. Arya jumped to her feet then, still not letting go of Gendry’s hand, as they watched Cassel deke around the Stags defenseman number 24 Balon Swann, hit a shot at goal that bounced off the goalie’s skate, but before she had a chance to get angry, Cassel had already rounded the goal and back-handed the loose puck past the goal line.

 

The buzzer went off loudly, the crowd erupted in cheers, and then Gendry was on his feet, arms going around Arya before she had a chance to stop him. Their second hug of the night, though this one was a bit different. It wasn’t loud cheers and half-hugging while messily jumping up and down in a bar, surrounded by fifty other people, or how she’d hugged strangers next to her during games before. This was much quieter, calmer, and they were alone in her apartment, and one of his hands had somehow found itself to her hair and --

 

“You wanna check out these posters before you head home?” Arya said, pulling away from him.

 

“Um, yea. Of course,” he replied. She walked over to the wall across from where the loveseat was, watching as his eyes grew wider as he got closer to the posters, the awe blatantly visible across his face, like he’d never imagined that he’d see these anywhere else except maybe a computer screen. She explained what some were, even though for most it was pretty obvious. There were a couple of championship posters, the kind that came out the day after a win, folded into the sports section of the newspaper, except hers were signed by all the players and framed. Next to those were a number of little shelves with game pucks on display, some signed, some looking much worse for the wear, and one shelf had part of a broken wooden hockey stick, the black tape around the bottom faded and frayed off as the glue dried. “That one is mine,” she explained, “The first time I’d ever played hard enough to break a stick. I was five.”

 

Further down the wall is a framed family photo of who she says is ‘everyone’ on a huge lake, surrounded by snow-covered mountains, and next to that, a yellowed and faded newspaper front page, a group of players holding up the cup and celebrating their win. The headline was simple, _Direwolves Bring Back the Cup_ , and it was dated June 10, 1985. “That was my dad’s first,” Arya said. “Nineteen years old and all the opportunity in the world.”

 

She knew how she sounded when she said that, voice low, tinged with emotion. _Stop it, Arya. Do not get emotional about this_. She also knew the exact meaning behind that look he was giving her, and she’d already told herself she wasn’t going to jump into anything tonight. It was late, she had work in the morning, and despite how attracted she was to him, she didn’t want this to end up as a one-night stand.

 

She yawned, not bothering to cover her mouth, and made the excuse of work, since it is a Thursday, _well, Friday now_ , she thinks, and goes to turn off the TV as he grabs his jacket off the back of a kitchen chair.

 

He fussed with the zipper and collar on his jacket, then looked between her and the door a time or two before he got up the courage to speak. “Listen, I know it’s been a pretty crazy night for both of us, what with getting kicked outta the Bear and all, but can I give you my number?”

 

_Hold up. He gets more adorable when he’s nervous? How is this possible?_

“Oh, you mean so you don’t have to be lonely when you watch this Saturday’s game?”

 

“Exactly,” he replied. “Except I was thinking maybe at my place? It doesn’t have quite the Hockey Hall of Fame vibe that yours does, but the TV is much bigger.”

 

“You’re on.”

 

They exchanged numbers, passing iPhones with almost identical black leather cases back and forth. She’s already hugged him twice tonight, so she figures once more won’t hurt, but she makes sure it’s quick, and then tells him she’ll send him a message tomorrow to get plans made for Saturday. She watched him walk down the stairs and out the main door of the building, partially because the front door has a habit of sticking, but mostly because she just wanted to.

 

She locked the deadbolt, pulled off her dad’s jersey as she crossed her apartment, and then hung it up on the hanger, its spot to live until the next game. She quickly changed into a t-shirt to sleep in, crawling into bed with her laptop and turning off the lights. The light of the laptop did a good job of illuminating the little ‘bedroom’ corner of her studio, and she let her eyes adjust for a moment before she opened up iMessage, then clicked on _Sansa Stark_ , frantically typing out a stream of consciousness message.

 

_You’ll never believe me, but I met a guy tonight. Who loves hockey. And the Direwolves. We’re watching the Saturday game at his place, and it’s just ughhhh I don’t even know what this is, but there’s something there and… gods. Fuck. I’ll call you at lunch tomorrow. I need to get some sleep._

She closed the laptop, knowing she’d wake up to a million messages from Sansa in the morning. That night, she dreams of pond hockey back at the lake house an hour outside of Winterfell, of her playing right wing, with Robb at left and her father taking forward. It was all the same, a game they’d played thousands of times, messing around on the ice with Rickon in goal, him telling everyone not to go easy on him just because he’s the youngest. Arya has the puck and when she scans the ice for someone to pass to, she notices Gendry is there now, in the defense position. He’s comically overdressed for what is considered mild in Winterfell, wobbling around on his skates like a newborn giraffe and trying to use the hockey stick he’s holding to help steady himself. She passes the puck to Robb, then skates over to Gendry, offering her arm out to him. _Someone’s gotta teach this boy how to skate_.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...well, it's been a long, long time and I finally came up with a story for this one-shot... more to come.


	3. Chapter 3

Just like Arya had expected, when her normal alarm for work went off on Friday morning there were about twenty texts from Sansa, although the first few were the only coherent ones, and the last had turned into a rather sexual usage of emoji. Arya was pretty sure that Margaery had stolen Sansa’s phone to send those particular ones.

 

_Sansa Stark: What? A guy?_

_Sansa Stark: Are you still there?_

_Sansa Stark: Gods you can’t text me news like that and then go to sleep_

_Sansa Stark: You’re such a little shit Arya_

_Sansa Stark: (five poo emoji)_

_Sansa Stark: Fine. Go to sleep. But you better call me tomorrow and tell me EVERYTHING._

 

She’d taken her lunch break at work to call Sansa, eating the sandwich and chips she’d packed at a picnic table in the city park next to her office instead of at her desk. It was better that way, even though pretty much everyone in the cube farm she worked in had their headphones on, music blasting the entire shift, she didn’t want to take any chances and have them listening to her call. She suppressed a laugh when her sister answer answered the phone quickly, after just one ring.

 

“No time for small talk, Arry,” Sansa answered. “Spill it. Now.”

 

Arya sighed, then launched straight into her story, rehashing the details for Sansa. How she was minding her own business at a new pub she’d found on Yelp, yelling what _might_ have been obscenities at the referee on the television, when this guy approached her… miles taller than her, with dark messy hair, bright blue eyes and –

 

“I get it, Arya,” Sansa interrupted. “I might be gay but I still know what a hot guy looks likes. Keep going.”

 

She held back her snarky reply, and finished the story… and by the end Sansa was almost having a fit laughing, not only about how they got kicked out of the bar, but how long it took Gendry to figure out her connection to that jersey she wore.

 

“Ya, it was really ridiculous. I mean, I was even wearing Dad’s jersey and everything. I think I cheered on Robb by his first name.” She paused to take another bite of her sandwich. “It gives me something to rag on him about later at least.”

 

There’s a pause on Sansa’s end, and Arya was just about to ask if the called dropped when Sansa spoke up again.

 

“So… did you guys, ya know?”

 

“No, Sans, we did not have sex,” she replied. “Not even close.”

 

“But you’re watching the game tomorrow together, yea? At his place, right?”

 

“That’s the plan… oh, shit,” she said. She’d gotten busy at work this morning and hadn’t texted Gendry back about their… _date? Is this a date? Crap_. “I gotta let you go, Sans. I still need to talk to Gendry about the plans for tomorrow, now that you’ve reminded me.”

 

“Happy to be of service,” Sansa replied. “Make sure to wear clean underwear.”

 

“Thanks, mom,” Arya said, then promised to call her later this weekend before she hung up. She was sure Sansa would turn around and tell Margaery at her earliest convenience. _As long as she doesn’t mention this conversation during her normal Sunday phone call with mom, I’ll be fine_.  

 

She texted Gendry once she was back in the office, despite being in a conference call with their Pentos branch. The webcam was pointed someplace else in the room and she couldn’t care less about the software they’re designing, especially not once she’s got his address saved in her phone and they’ve stopped talking about the details of watching the game tomorrow, having moved on to much more interesting topics of conversation like, _can you believe that the Casterly Lions are ranked 4 th so far?_ and _gods, did you hear about Willas Tyrell’s injury? They say with his leg like that he might be out for the rest of the season. Looks like Highgarden’s chances of making playoffs just went right down the drain._

 

* * *

 

 

She’s there, the next day, just as they’d planned. She knocked on the door to his apartment five minutes before the time they’d agreed upon, and she held a six-pack of beer that she’s never had, from some brewery in the Stormlands that she hoped to gods he didn’t hate it. He answered the door quickly, like he was sitting beside it just waiting for her to arrive, and before he can even say anything in greeting, she’s holding up the six-pack in front of her like it’s a prize.

 

He took it from her, ushering her in and taking her jacket, hanging it up beside the door. It’d been raining a bit on the way over, or else she wouldn’t have needed it at all. Even for the first of December, Kings Landing was still not that cold.

 

“Blackhaven Brewery?” he asked excitedly, taking a quick look at the six-pack as he set it down on the counter. “How did you…”

 

“I wasn’t really sure what you liked, so I just picked something… and I know all those micro-brew places in the Stormlands are super popular right now. I hope it’s alright. Had to go all the way across town to some fancy ass grocery store just to get it.”

 

“Arya, I went to college in the Stormlands… Blackhaven is pretty much the best there is. I’ve never had this one though, it must be new,” he continues, taking a bottle out of the pack and inspecting the label. The picture is a historic ship sailing through terrible storm. He handed one to her. “Shipbreaker Bay Bock. Should we give it a try?”

 

Before they know it, the game had started, they’re both two beers in, yelling at the refs, cheering on Robb and the rest of the boys, and mercilessly making fun of the opposing team’s diehard fans. The game that night was against the Tyrosh Pirates, an away game across the Narrow Sea in Tyrosh, at Trios Arena. The arena is a sea of blue hair, eye patches and fake hook hands, a comical mash-up of the historical pirates that once ruled the waters of the Narrow Sea and beyond, mixed with a much more Disney’s Peter Pan-style Captain Hook pirate, with just a splash of Captain Morgan flair. There’s even an amusement park mascot that skates on the ice before the game and during breaks. Winterfell has one too, a large wolf wearing a Direwolves jersey who skates with a hockey stick. _Grey Wind is much cooler than the creepy pirate dude,_ Arya thought. _He sort of looks like mom’s friend Petyr._

 

He didn’t make any attempt to get closer to her, though they sat in rather close proximity on his couch the whole game, even though there was plenty of room to spread out. She told herself it was only to have the best view of the television, and that so she didn’t have to crawl halfway across the couch when she wanted more Doritos. She told herself that, but she knew exactly why she was sitting there. _The one time I would relax my ‘no making out during hockey’ rule, well, at least during intermission is okay_. And while she completely knew that it’s not all up to him to make a move, that she’s perfectly capable of jumping him, each time there’s a pause in gameplay for a time out or commercial break, he’s got something interesting to say about the game, or interesting in general, and she’s found that she really enjoys talking to him. He has a tendency to get animated whenever he talks about something that he finds interesting, eyes lighting up and hands gesturing… she’d noticed it the other night at the bar and decided immediately that she liked it. 

 

The game might as well have been over even before halfway through the third period. “The Pirates can be a good team,” Arya remarked. “That is, when they want to be. Just seems like…”

 

She couldn’t seem to find the words to describe what she’s thinking, and Gendry finished her sentence, summing up her thoughts perfectly. “Like it’s a coin toss each game whether or not the team will remember that they’re there to play hockey?”

 

“Exactly!” she agreed loudly. “Gods, it’s like, what exactly is their coach doing wrong? Not that I mind terribly, since it’s an easy win for us and all…”

 

The Direwolves won easily against the Pirates, much to the dismay of their blue-wigged fan base, and though it wasn’t much of an exciting game with the score at 5 to 1, but it gave Coach Luwin a chance to get some of the new Direwolves players a chance for some ice time, and even a goal for one of this year’s rookies.

 

As the game finished, Arya wished it had been a neck and neck game, both teams duking it out, getting some overtime, maybe even a shoot-out… though not for the normal reasons. Even though her team was winning, she found herself getting anxious as the clock ticked down the time, less and less time until the inevitable awkward goodbye between her and Gendry. If anything, she wasn’t going to let that stop her spending more time with him, and _hells_ , she thought, _even if all we do is drink fancy beer and yell at the television… I’ll take what I can get._

 

Arya groaned as she finally got up from his couch, it was too comfortable really, and started to clean up some of the trash and beer bottles off of his coffee table. _Don’t be like this, Arya. If you want to spend more time then do something about it_. “So, I was wondering, do you want to watch next week’s game together too?”

 

He looked over at her like he was a bit embarrassed, with a hint of redness on his cheeks, though it could’ve just been the couple of beers, and then ran a hand through his hair, pushing the unruly bits of it back off his forehead. “I was sort of hoping we could make this a normal thing,” he explained. She tried to focus her gaze just over the top of his left shoulder, anything to not stare at his flushed face and think about other, much more fun ways to make him blush like that. “To tell ya the truth, I’d pretty much assumed this was a sure thing.”

 

_I am definitely a sure thing_ , she’d wanted to say, but all that came out of her mouth was a weak, questioning, “Yea?”

 

“Yea, I mean, you’re the only person I’ve met down here who’s a Direwolves fan, and it sure beats being alone or being the only person at some sports bar cheering for them.”

 

“I can’t disagree with that,” she said, grabbing her jacket from the coat rack mounted on the wall by the door.

 

He reached out and pulled her into a hug she wasn’t expecting, at least not so soon, she’d just barely finished getting her arms in the sleeves of her jacket. Her arms went under his, circling around his back, and since her arms aren’t long enough to touch, she settled for flattening her hands against the muscles of his upper back. There’s less awkwardness now, _thank the gods_ , and it’s definitely not a side-hug or a ‘butts out so we aren’t actually touching’ hug. He’s holding on to her a little too tightly, but she’s fine with it, if it means that for a few more seconds she can stay held this close against him.

 

Finally, she squirmed a bit, pulling back slightly from him. “Whoa there, killer, let a girl breathe for a second,” Arya said, laughing, but she looked up at him and flashed a smile, hoping that would convey her sarcasm well enough for him to catch on. “I should get going.”

 

She pulled out of his hug and he reached over to open the door. “See you in a few days.”

 

She mumbled her goodbye and fixes her head straight down the stairs as she leaves so that he has no idea about the sappy smile on her face. She’s trying to commit that hug to memory, everything about it… the strong arms around her, his chin resting on top of her head, even how soft his well-worn Direwolves hoodie is… and then she got an idea. The second she’s around the corner from his apartment she pulled her phone out of her bag.

 

“Siri,” she started, “Look up ‘vintage Ned Stark jerseys’ on eBay, please.”


	4. Chapter 4

The Direwolves’ games are scheduled each week on Thursdays and Saturdays, and they talk a bit more about arrangements during the next week. Eventually, they end up deciding that they’ll head to her place on Thursdays, and she’ll come to his for the Saturday games, especially for the time being since they were so rudely tossed out of The Bear only days earlier. _Visiting team brings dinner_ , she’d joked in their text messages, though when he showed up on at her place for next Thursday’s game against the Sunspear Vipers, he had two plastic bags full of Dornish takeout, she’d realized he’d taken her statement quite literally. Arya was not one to argue with Dornish takeout though, especially not once she saw the bags and realized he’d even went to the good place, not the crap one just around the corner. He helped dish out what he’d brought, stuffed grape leaves, pita bread, grilled lamb, as well as a bottle of sour Dornish red wine, and they were both thoroughly stuffed before the first period ended.

 

“You know what, Gendry?” Arya said, coming back from her bedroom, having decided she was way too full to continue to wear any pants that didn’t have an elastic waistband. Much more comfortable in her University of Westeros sweats, she plopped back down on the couch next to him, sock feet propped up on the coffee table. “This is now tradition. Visitor brings food from the opposing team’s region.”

 

“You’ve got yourself a deal. Although Saturday might be tough. I’ve got no clue what they eat over at Casterly Rock. Good luck with that.”

 

“Oh, I’ve got my ways. I’ll figure something out. Later though,” she added. “Right now, I’m almost too full to even give a shit if we win tonight or not.”

 

Which was good too, because in the end they lost to Sunspear.

 

XxXxX

 

Arya could smell something exquisite the moment she stepped into entryway of the building, even though she had to climb up two flights of stairs to get past the levels that are businesses, and then one more flight up to Gendry’s apartment. Her stomach growled so loudly she figured everyone in the second floor yoga studio probably heard it. _Aw, fuck. Why did he have to text me not to bring food? This is torture right now. Pure torture_. She’d gotten a message from him earlier in the day telling her not to worry about dinner tonight, that he’s got it all covered. At first, she was relieved, since the only food she was able to find that was from Casterly Rock were either five-star fine dining establishments or a small deli advertising genuine Casterly corned beef sandwiches, on the exact opposite side of Kings Landing from where both her and Gendry lived. She got to his door right at 7pm, leaving only about fifteen minutes until the puck drops, not even enough time to order a pizza and have it delivered on time.

 

She thought about just going on in, but hears her mother’s etiquette lessons in the back of her head so she rang the doorbell instead, and when Gendry answered all of those wonderful smells she’d been tormented with since the sidewalk came wafting out of his apartment and into the hallway.

 

She walked in, dipping down and under his arm that held the door up, announcing that she still brought a six-pack from Lions Head Brewery. “I swear to all that is holy, Gendry, if that amazing smell isn’t coming out of your kitchen, I’m gonna –” She stopped in her tracks when she rounded the corner to the kitchen and saw that someone else was in the apartment.

 

She felt Gendry come up behind her. He took the beers out of her hand and sat them on the counter. “This,” he started, gesturing towards the man standing in front of the stove, “is my friend Hot Pie. He’s the one you should be thanking for dinner, by the way. This is Arya, remember I told you about her the other day?”

 

“Oh, that’s right. Ya both got yourselves kicked outta The Bear, from what Gendry’s told me,” Hot Pie said. He turned two of the knobs on the stove to off, then bent and grabbed a sheet tray of what looked like thick-cut garlic bread out of the oven. “Heard plenty ‘bout soccer hooligans, but I guess they make hockey hooligans too, eh?”

 

“That’s the jist of it, more or less,” she said. There’s plates already set on the counter so she doesn’t have to hop up to get them down. “We really should go apologize to the owners, get ourselves officially off the blacklist… but later. I’m starving and after the work day I had yesterday I’m ready to relax a bit.”

 

“It fucking hurts to say this, but dammit, Casterly’s got a good line-up this year,” Arya mused out loud, about halfway through the second period. The Lions were up by one goal, and the shots on goal were almost evenly matched as well. “Doesn’t help either that sometimes half the guys on the ice are Lannisters. It’s like they’ve got some secret lab they grow hockey players in, hidden in the caves below Casterly Rock.”

 

“…and the Starks _don’t_ some secret lab they grow hockey players in?”

 

In the end, Gendry got a couch cushion tossed at his head for that remark, Hot Pie fell on to the floor laughing, the third period ended in a tie, and Winterfell managed to barely eke out a win in overtime. Arya worked on typing up her regular post-game text to Robb, only this time it was accompanied by half a dozen off-centered selfies of her, Gendry, and Hot Pie.

 

For Thursday’s game against the Iron Island Krakens, they gathered at Arya’s studio, though for the second game in a row, Hot Pie has also come by, as well as one of Gendry’s coworkers, Asha Greyjoy, and she’s glad that no one complained about having to sit on the floor, since she’s only got around 400 square feet to speak of. Asha showed up with two tote bags full of Tupperware for dinner, explaining that, “it’s proper seafood from the Islands, what the old pirates and sailors used to eat, not like that shit you try to pass off as seafood down at the marina district.” For all of her crude humor and brazen attitude, Arya quickly decided that if she was interested in ladies, she’d be head over heels in love with Asha Greyjoy. _Not to mention that’s the best damned chowder I’ve had in… well, ever, I guess_. Asha is just as gung-ho about the game as both her and Gendry are, and they’re able to spend the entirety of the game yelling at the television and at each other, this time with the luxury of not getting kicked out of anywhere. Arya tried her best to answer Hot Pie’s questions, _wait, how was that interference? Isn’t the whole game roughing?_ , and Asha had to give up twenty bucks to Gendry when the Direwolves won 3 to 2.

 

XxXxX

 

They skipped watching the game against the Harpies on the 15th to go out with a big group of Gendry’s friends the next week. It’s the first missed game in quite some time for either of them, but they both had to admit that it if they were going to pick a game to skip, it might as well be against Meereen. The franchise was new and the team really isn’t great yet, and they both wonder how many hockey fans there can actually be in a city with a yearly average temperature of 85 degrees.

 

The missed game was quickly forgotten though, as it’s Hot Pie’s birthday and somehow she’d been invited, even though they’ve only really hung out twice, both times just to watch hockey. Arya had a bit of an idea that Gendry had something, or everything, to do with her getting invited out to dinner and then back to Hot Pie’s house for movies with their friends. After the first movie, Arya grabbed her jacket and said she was going to catch some fresh air outside for a bit, and Gendry grabbed his coat to join her.

 

“Sorry about that,” Arya began, sitting down on the front stoop. It might’ve been December, but it still wasn’t too cold in Kings Landing for sitting outside to be out of the question. “There’s just... a lot of new people, I guess. You’d think that as someone who grew up in a house full of siblings and cousins and gods knows who else that I’d be good with crowds… but it’s different when they’re all _new_ , ya know?” He nodded in agreement, letting her know that he understood. “Still, thank you for inviting me though, I _am_ having a good time. I like Hot Pie and Asha, so it’s pretty cool to get to hang out with them more. You’re not that bad either,” she added, looking up at him from where she was sitting, then patting the concrete next to her.

 

“Geez, Ar, don’t flatter me too much,” he said, voice full of sarcasm to match hers. He handed her the almost full beer she’d left inside, then took the spot next to her. It’s small, not a porch at all, just a concrete stoop in front of the brownstone house, and there’s no room to sit except right smack against her.

 

“Ya know, Gen, sometimes I think it’s too bad we’re down here in the south on a night like this, instead of up in the north.”

 

“Why’s that? So we can freeze to death?”

 

“No, stupid.” She shook her head, stopping to take a sip of her beer before she continued. “Clear night like this in December, you’ve got not only the stars, but the northern lights. Gods, they’re beautiful, Gendry, probably the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen.”

 

He found himself thinking there’s no way that’s true, and he wanted to tell her he knows it’s not true because the most amazing thing he’s ever seen is sitting next to him on a cold concrete step. These words sound great to him in his head, but he won’t say them, partly because she’d just thinking he was joking and tell him he’s cut off for the night, and partly because they’re at Hot Pie’s party, and it’s not the time or the place for grandiose declarations of feelings.

 

“I believe you,” he replied. “I’ve seen the photos online and –“

 

“It’s not the same. You’ve really gotta see it for yourself,” she insisted, cutting him off. “Maybe one of these days I’ll show you.”

 

“Show me Winterfell?”

 

She nodded. “Yep, in the winter too. The northern lights and the mountains, the way it almost seems like daytime when the full moon is out shining on the snow…”

 

She let her voice linger off and they sit for a few more minutes outside in silence, Arya taking sips from her beer every once in a while.

 

“About ready to head back in?” Gendry asked, noticing she’d almost finished the beer he’d brought her. “Don’t wanna miss the second movie.”

 

“What is it?”

 

“Not sure actually,” he said, laughing a bit as he shook his head. “Hot Pie won’t take any of my suggestions, says he doesn’t like violence or non-linear storytelling, apparently.”

 

“Wait, so no Usual Suspects?” she asked as she stood up. “Or, shit, even worse, no Tarantino at all?”

 

“You like his stuff too?” he asked. _How did I not know that? Oh, wait, that’s right_ , he remembered. _We spend all our time together watching hockey and talking about dinner, but thank the gods, something tell me that’s about to change._

 

“Like? Don’t be a square, Gendry,” Arya quoted, making the square outline with her fingers as he held the screen door open for her. “Love it, all of it,” she corrected him. “Now come on, close the door and stop letting all the cold air inside, honey bunny.”

 

He closed the door, following her back to the living room where everyone else is already seated, probably waiting for them so they can start the next movie. “Hey, you’re not allowed to call me that, it’s the other way around,” he said as he side-stepped around her, grabbing the only seat left on the couch.

 

“Aww, be cool, honey bunny,” she said again, egging him on purposefully, and she pushes at his legs, sitting down cross-legged on the floor in between them. She’s rewarded when Gendry throws with a big handful of popcorn at her, half of it landing in her hair and the rest in her lap.

 

“Geez, you really do need to be cool, don’t you?” she responded without turning around, but he knows her tone of voice by now and can tell that she isn’t upset. That, and she’d started to eat the popcorn that landed in her lap. Scooting forward, he began to help pick the popcorn out of her hair, as someone else hits plays on the movie. He knew he’d get grilled the next day by Hot Pie, trying to find out what exactly is going on with him and Arya, especially when he finishes the popcorn extraction and she leans over to rest her head against his leg, leaving it there for the remainder of the movie. _Hells if I know_ , he thinks, _hells if I know_.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, it certainly has been a while since I updated this (or anything, tbh). Sorry about that.


	5. Chapter 5

Arya sprinted up the stairs to Gendry’s floor, as fast as she can go with the huge cardboard FedEx box that’s in her arms, this time actually foregoing knocking on his door and just letting herself into the apartment instead. The package wasn’t heavy, but she’s cursing her mother for using what had to be the biggest cardboard box in existence, and Arya’s been having a hard time getting her arms all the way around it. _Short arms, short legs, what’s next?_

 

“Sorry, I know I’m late,” she apologized when she saw him get up from the couch. She set the box down on the kitchen table, then took her coat off. She’d sent a text a half hour ago to let him know she’d be late, asking if it was possible for him to figure out their dinner. Judging by the pizza boxes on the counter, he’d taken care of things as soon as she’d texted him. “Mum sent me a package for Winter Solstice since I’m couldn’t go home to see them this year, and I’ve missed the stupid delivery guy enough times that I had to actually go pick it up at the store. Line was about a mile long.” She took her beanie off and pulled her now static-y hair into a quick ponytail, then walked over to investigate the food. “Pizza still warm?”

 

“Should be, just arrived not five minutes before you did.”

 

“Awesome,” she said. She grabbed two beers out of his fridge and carried the pizza boxes over to the couch. “You’re the best, honey bunny.” It’d only been a week since the party at Hot Pie’s, and she’s used every opportunity to call Gendry by her new nickname for him.

 

Together they demolished the pizzas during what was left in the first period, and when Arya went to the kitchen to throw away their paper plates during intermission, she came back to the couch with the package from her mom.

 

“So, what’d you get this year?” Gendry asked, side-eyeing the large knife she pulled out of her bag to open the box.

 

“Oh, the usual. Mum’s never really known what to get me for birthdays or Winter Solstice. I can almost always tell by the gift if it was actually her who picked it out, or if she got an Amazon link from one of my siblings.” She finished cutting the tape, flipped the knife closed and threw it back into her messenger bag before opening the top. “Looks like this year is… yep. It’s a Mum gift. Not that I mind. More items for my memorabilia wall, is what it looks like so far.”

 

This time her mom had also sent some pictures of Arya herself on the ice when she was young and first learning to skate, high school team pictures, scans from the yearbook, and a few newspaper cut-outs, ending with pictures of her university team winning the championship her sophomore year, right before she transferred down to Kings Landing. There was even a picture of a very small Arya in a very puffy winter coat, posing fiercely on a frozen lake and holding a hockey stick that dwarfs her, surrounded by her brothers in their junior league hockey gear, and her sister on the other side in her figure skates, tights, and hot pink winter coat.

 

“What about before high school?” Gendry asked, flipping through the stack of pictures she handed him. “Did you play?”

 

“You bet. There are plenty of junior and pee-wee leagues up in the North, but most of my skill was honed in during backyard games with my brothers. When you play with other kids it’s unpredictable, ya know, if they try or not... but Robb and Jon would never let me slack off.”

 

“Why don’t you play anymore?”  


“Who says I don’t?” Arya asked, not looking up from reorganizing the pictures to put back in the cardboard box.

 

“You do? Even down here?”

 

She closed the lid on the box and slid it under the coffee table in front of them. “Once you’ve been doing something for the vast majority of your life it’s pretty tough to give it up. I’ve got games every Sunday and Wednesday evenings, over at the Ice Box on West 7th Street.” She grabbed her phone off the table and pulled up a picture of her and the rest of her team in uniform, sitting on the bench, wearing red and grey jerseys that read _Conquerors_ across the front.

 

The rest of the evening passed by with the same growing familiarity that they’re both getting used to – someone brings a six-pack from a microbrewery they think the other hasn’t heard of, they heckle the players on the opposing team, Dragonstone Flames this time, and both wish for an excuse to stay in each other’s company after the game is done, but instead they settle for a hug that keeps getting longer every time they see each other.

 

With the bit of knowledge that Arya still played regularly, Gendry decided it was imperative that he come see her in action _. If she’s anything on the ice like she is just cheering on my couch, this’ll be godsdamn entertaining_. He made his way to the arts and crafts store as soon as it opened Sunday morning, grabbing a few sheets of white poster board and filling the hand basket up with different colored Sharpies, puffy paint, and glitter glue. On the drive home, he called the ice rink to find out what time the rec league games started that evening, relieved that he had almost seven hours to make a sign for her. Gendry wasn’t sure if making a sign and showing up unannounced at one of her games was a great idea or very bad idea, but he knew she didn’t have a big circle of friends in the city, so there probably wouldn’t be anyone else in attendance, at least not for her personally.

 

He was unaware of any catchy slogans or cheers for hockey, and while he knew what Arya usually yelled to cheer on her brother and the rest of the Direwolves, he knew he’d for sure get kicked out of the ice rink if he puffy-painted most of those words on to a poster board. A Google image search for ‘hockey cheer posters’ was a bust as well, so instead he went with the stand-by of “Go Arya!” in puffy paint and glitter, with a hockey skate he painstakingly drew based on yet another Google image search. He arrived at the ice rink a few minutes before her game was supposed to start, happy that both teams were still on the ice warming up and he hadn’t missed anything. Not really sure where to sit, he looked around the sparsely populated bleachers and noticed a group of women and a few children, the women sitting close to each other and chatting while some of the kids were standing up against the glass watching the players skate around and shoot puck after puck at the goalie.

 

“You here for the Conquerors or the other team?” he asked. He was pretty sure they were, a few were wearing the team’s colors.

 

The woman closest to him, a redhead probably a few years old than him, spoke up first. “You betcha,” said, scooting over on the metal bench. “I’m gonna go by your signs and guess that you’re here to watch Arya?” He nodded in agreement and sat down on the bench next to her. She introduced herself as Kath, explaining that her husband was on the team, number 62, and asked if he’d ever come to watch Arya play before.

 

“Nope, this is my first time,” Gendry said. A buzzer went off and he saw the big clock start to countdown from five minutes. All the players on the ice skated back to their respective benches. “She didn’t even mention to me that she still played hockey until just the other day.”

 

“That’s a shocker… usually when we go out for food after the games I can’t get a word in edgewise, that’s all she’s talking about. If she didn’t tell you that, I bet she also didn’t mention that she’s the only female player on the team… _and_ the only one in the whole rec league.”

 

“What? No way!” _Of course she didn’t tell me that, the little shit_.

 

“You should’ve seen it. The coach before this one, he didn’t want to let her on the team, being the only girl and everything I think they were afraid she was gonna get hurt, but she went to the league office and pitched a fit.” _Yep, that sounds about right_ , Gendry thought.

 

“And good for her,” another woman commented, not bothering to take her eyes off the Kindle in her lap.

 

“Right? She’s like twice as good as Marcy’s boyfriend anyways,” Kath said. He saw another woman he assumed was Marcy raise her hand to give her the finger, though she didn’t actual bother looking over at her. “She’s your girlfriend though, so I’m sure you know exactly how much of a handful she can be.”

 

“Oh, we’re… we’re not dating,” Gendry explained, though he wished to hell that wasn’t true.

 

“Crap, gods, I’m sorry. She’s never brought anyone else to watch her games before, aside from her sister that one time, so I just assumed…”

 

He shrugged, replied that it was cool, and then changed the topic, thankfully only having to make small talk for a few minutes before the game started. He found himself in easy company with a couple of the wives and girlfriends who seemed more into the game, while there a few others playing on their phones, reading, wrangling their young children they brought along, and one older woman was knitting something very elaborate, though he couldn’t tell what it was going to be.

 

The game started, and truthfully, it wasn’t nearly as exciting as watching a professional game, but it was nice to watch a game being played live twenty feet away from him… and he also had his sights set on a cherry slushie and some nachos and fake cheese from the concessions stand between periods. He found that he enjoyed watching Arya play – it’s a bit obvious that she’s one of the best players, and it doesn’t surprise him, not knowing her family history now and that she played on her college team. She’s a fast skater, beating other players across the open ice, but also quick and nimble up close, and it made him wonder if she’d ever been made to attend any of the figure skating lessons with her sister. Despite the fact that she was probably one of the top three players on the ice, she didn’t try to dominate the game, and gave her teammates the help they needed. The first goal her team scored was by number 62, husband of the lady he’d befriended, about halfway through the first period. Arya got her goal right before the end of the first period buzzer went off. It was the moment that Gendry had been waiting for – he’d jumped up, screaming her name as loudly as he could as he held the poster he’d made above his head.

 

He thought he saw her look his way as she skated off the ice as the period ended, but he wasn’t certain until he saw her walking up to him a few minutes later.

 

“Hey, there’s my star player,” he greeted her. She walked a little off-balance on the hard plastic skate guards, and when she stood next to him the skates made her a few inches taller.

 

“Oh, shut up,” she said, a huge grin plastered across her face. There was absolutely no bite to her words. “I cannot believe you’re here… and with a poster.” She grabbed the poster from where it sat on the bench, holding it out at arms’ length and studying it. “This is some stellar work right here, I’m surprised I haven’t seen your other masterpieces hanging in the museum downtown.”

 

“I’ll have you know, I spent my morning at the craft store agonizing over the perfect shades of puffy paint to buy, so you’d better like it.”

 

“I love it, Gendry, it’s… wait a sec. Sit down and hold still.” He gave her a confused look as she handed the poster back to him, but he listened to her request. She walked from his side to directly in front of him. “You’ve got glitter on your face. Looks like you’re going to a Lady Gaga concert, not a hockey game.”

 

She leaned in closer, brought her hand up to his face, and began to try and brush off whatever glitter he figured was left over from his arts and crafts time earlier in the day. She’d never been quite this close to him before though… _well, sure, we’ve hugged plenty of times_ , he thought, _but it’s different being face-to-face like this_. She didn’t look him in the eye, instead concentrating hard on her glitter removal job, but he can’t stop himself from taking the opportunity to memorize her features, taking note of the freckles he had never been close enough to notice before, and the flushed complexion she had from the cold air in the rink. Her hands were clammy from the cold and she smelled exactly like what you’d expect sweaty hockey gear to smell like, and he could not have cared less.

 

“There,” Arya said, after what Gendry figured was the longest ninety seconds of his life. She leaned back, placing both hands on his shoulders and surveying her work. “Much better,” she decided, then snuck a quick look over at the clock that was counting down to the second period. “Shit, I gotta jet. Dinner after the game?” He agreed and wished her good luck in the next period, smiling as he watched her wobble away on the skate guards.

 

“Just friends, eh?” Kath remarked once Arya had turned the corner and was out of earshot. Gendry groaned and slumped forward, resting both hands under his chin. “Oh man, do I know what _that_ noise means. Took me and Terry almost a year and a half to realize we were pining for each other.” She stood up and grabbed her purse. “Come on, we got a few minutes left to grab snacks. Promise me you’ll keep coming to games and that you won’t take a year to tell her how you feel, and the snacks are my treat.”

 

“That’s a deal I’m glad to make.”

 

“Good, ‘cuz I don’t think I can handle you making heart eyes at her for the next years’ worth of games.”


	6. Chapter 6

The next few weeks that passed by were relatively uneventful, save for the pair of them deciding that it was finally time to head back to The Bear. The Wednesday after Gendry came to watch Arya’s rec league game, she called him to say she’d received a notice in her mailbox that morning, from the apartment complex manager, warning her that building maintenance would need to have the water shut off the next day, and of course it was scheduled right when it would affect their plans to watch the game against the Braavos Titans. It was Arya who suggested they stop in at The Bear, after all it had been almost a month exactly since they were kicked out. _And the manager didn’t say they were kicked out forever_ , she’d pointed out. The Direwolves won that night in a shoot out, no one was kicked out of the bar for being too rowdy, and when the manager came by to check on everything, they both profusely apologized in hopes of being welcomed back again.

 

Arya woke to the sounds of her Saturday morning alarm, alerting her that it’s time to wake up and head over to the gym before all the good equipment was taken by someone else. Her normal Saturday plans had morphed from just gym time, errands, and watching the game alone, to scouring Whole Foods or the fancy liquor stores for a six-pack she thought Gendry might not have tried, then attempting to figure out where in the city to get carry-out from. She rolled over, unplugging her phone and turning the alarm off. That’s when she saw all of the text, missed call, and voicemail notifications… all from Gendry. Her first thoughts were that something was wrong, but those were quickly replaced by relief and then confusion when she saw that all he really wanted was to make sure she met him at Indigo for coffee.

 

Arya Stark: _Did you still want to meet for coffee? What’s going on?_

 

Gendry Waters: _Can you do 9am? At Indigo_.

 

She glanced at the clock, then tapped out a reply.

 

Arya Stark: _I guess. I’ll have to skip the gym this morning, so it better be worth it._

 

She quickly showered and dressed, thankful that the coffee shop they both frequented was only a couple of blocks away from her apartment, and she wouldn’t need to risk losing her parking spot. _Does he always have to sound so serious… but maybe it is serious? It’s not a date, is it? No, gods, Arya, stop that. Guys don’t frantically text you for early morning coffee if it’s supposed to be a date_. She spotted him at a small round table with a window seat at Indigo, two muffins, a small cappuccino for him and an enormous iced coffee for her.

 

“Alright, you better spill it, Waters,” she said when she sat down. She shrugged out of her coat and left it to hang off the back of her chair. “What’s so important that you couldn’t wait until I came over for the game tonight? I’ve been wracking my brain trying to figure out the meaning behind your cryptic texts for the last hour.”

 

“I was wondering, if you don’t have any plans… that might possibly wanna hang out from about two hours from now until possibly early tomorrow morning.” Arya looked up at him mid coffee slurp, straw still in her mouth as she raised an eyebrow in question. “Okay, that was weird, sorry. What I’m trying to ask is, instead of watching the game at my place, if you wanna drive down to Storms End to watch the game with a few of my college buddies tonight? They’ve kinda been bugging me about it ever since I moved back to the city.”

 

Her eyes widened in disbelief. “Shut the fuck up - you got tickets to the game against the Hurricanes tonight and you’re just telling me now?”

 

“Oh, um, no,” he replied. “Sorry to disappoint, but we’ll just be watching at a sports bar. Still up for it?”

 

She _was_ a little bit disappointed, having looked forward to a game in person even if the hope only lasted a few seconds. _Not like it’s much different than watching at our apartments or the Bear_.

 

“Why not?” she replied with a shrug. “I haven’t been down to Storms End in forever and I’ve got nothing else going on today.”

 

“You’ll go?” His face lit up with excitement at her answer. “That’s a yes?”

 

She shook her head in between bites of her muffin. “Of course it’s a yes,” Arya agreed. “Let me guess, you’ve got this all planned out, don’t you?”

 

He did. _Of course he did_. They discussed the plans while finishing their coffee, and Arya showed up at his apartment just before 11am. She wore a grey University of Winterfell windbreaker and a Direwolves logo beanie, then proudly showed off a Fossoway’s tote bag full of snacks and sodas for the drive, enough that Gendry felt reassured they’d survive in case they broke down on the side of the road for a few days.

 

“You know the drive is only four hours right?” he commented as she proudly showed off her purchases.

 

She climbed up into the passenger seat of his Jeep, pulled out one of the sodas she got for him and offered it to him, pulling it away at the last second. “If it’s only four hours, then I guess that means you don’t need any of this.”

 

He reached over, his longer arms easily grabbing the drink from her hands. “It’d be a shame to waste it.” Arya just rolled her eyes and laughed, then tossed a bag of Skittles his way and told him to get a move on.

 

Both of them were thankful for good weather, which for the drive between Kings Landing and Storms End meant overcast skies and no threats of thunderstorms or high winds. It also meant they made good time on the drive, arriving around three in the afternoon, which gave Gendry enough time to show her around campus, _the grand tour_ , he called it. It was chilly, but still nice enough to park and walk about campus, making stops at his old dorm and the house he lived in junior and senior year, popping in to the student union to grab coffees before he decided they could make the quick trip to the cliffs that look over the bay.

 

The puck drop was at seven, and they arrived at the Storm King Tavern about a half hour earlier. This place an institution, he’d explained on the short drive to the small downtown area. The young man at the host stand asked if they were with a group, and pointed over towards a rounded booth in the corner of the room, where a number of people were already seated.

 

“That’s us,” Gendry replied with a smile, and he and Arya wove their way through the tables to the booth in the corner.

 

“About time you showed up, Waters,” someone called out when they approached, a man who looked around Gendry’s age, wearing a Hurricanes t-shirt, with sandy brown hair pulled back into a pony tail.

 

“I’ll take that to mean you missed me terribly, Lem,” Gendry said. “Hard time getting parked though. Is there a wedding or something going on tonight? We passed like three limos out front.”

 

Another man next to Lem answered. “Ya, old Prof. Higginson’s getting married, if you can believe that. You had him for econ, right?” Gendry nodded. “I think half the university staff is there.”

 

“Well, we’re here now. We didn’t miss anything, did we?” he asked. He took his coat off and then grabbed Arya’s windbreaker from her, hanging both up on the hooks outside the booth. There was a resounding ‘no’ from the group, and they scooted into the booth. “This is my…” _This is my girlfriend, Arya Stark_. “… friend, the one I told you guys about.”

 

“Gods, Gen, of course you’d manage to find the one other person in all of Kings Landing who also likes Winterfell. You got some sorta Direwolf fan radar or something?” The one he’d called Lem earlier stood up, at least as much as he could at the booth, then reached over to shake Arya’s hand. “No offense, babe,” he started, not noticing Gendry wince at the word ‘babe,’ “You might beat the Hurricanes tonight, but there’s no way the Direwolves are going all the way again this year.”

 

A smug grin appeared across her face. “We’ll see about that,” she said. “And the name’s not _babe_ , it’s Arya Stark.”

 

The group laughed at her retort to Lem, and Gendry was relieved to know that she’d fit in well with his friends.

 

When the laughter died down, the man to her right in the booth turned towards her. “Wait a second. You’re Arya Stark, as in, the Winterfell Starks?” There was something incredibly familiar about this man sitting next to her, with the golden hair and perfectly distressed t-shirt that looked more like he paid eighty bucks for it instead of picking it out of the dirty clothes that morning. She looked over to where he’s holding a pint of beer in his hand, and recognition hit her in the face when she saw the orthopedic wrist brace.

 

“That’s right,” she nodded. “And you’re Jaime Lannister.”

 

He took a drink of his beer before he answered. “Guilty as charged.”

 

“Shit news about the wrist, eh? Casterly seems to be doing alright without you this season though.”

 

Jaime didn’t get a chance to answer. The woman next to him leaned forward, lacing her hand with his uninjured one. “If he actually keeps up with his physical therapy, the doctor says he’s be able to play next season.”

 

“Shit, I know all about how that goes. I broke my ankle just fucking around when I played in college. The PT sucks but there’s no way around it if you wanna play again.”

 

“Ya know,” Jaime said, changing the topic, “Brienne used to play college hockey, too.”

 

“Really?” Arya exclaimed, a touch louder than necessary. Gendry can’t help but be excited for her – he knows she misses having another woman to talk to who also played. “You think we ever played against each other?”

 

“I graduated long before you did, I’m sure.”

 

“She cuts an impressive figure on the ice, what with her size, especially when you add in the height from the skates,” Jaime said, though there’s no malice or teasing in his words, more like respect, if Arya had to take a guess. “You’d remember if you played against her.”

 

Arya smiled at that, an amused look appearing on her face. “She’d remember if she played against me, too.”

 

Jaime gave a quick look at Brienne, then back to Arya, flashing her that smile she’s seen a hundred times during his Westeros Sports Network interviews. “I don’t doubt that.”

 

The waitress interrupted then, a young co-ed with a sky-high ponytail wearing a UW Storms End sweatshirt, asking for Gendry and Arya’s orders. Everyone else had already placed their orders before they arrived, and Arya looked at the menu with a frown. “Ugh, I’m starving. I feel like I could eat every single thing on this menu right now.”

 

“Get whatever you want, my treat,” Gendry offered. He’d learned early on in their friendship that keeping Arya full of food was paramount to keeping her happy.

 

“Really? You sure?”

 

“Yea, I mean, you did agree to come down here on short notice. Plus, you paid for gas on the interstate, remember? You’ve got at least thirty bucks of food credit just from that.”

 

He rattled off his order, the same thing he always got when they’d come to the Tavern to watch games in undergrad, then Arya placed hers, appetizers and sliders, a half order of wings and two pints of beer at once, and Lem commented that Gendry’s gonna wish he didn’t offer to pay for her food if that’s how she’s starting off the night. The food and drinks get there quickly, since everything is either poured from a tap or deep-fried, and the puck dropped a minute or two later.

 

The Direwolves dominated in the first period, both in shots on goal, with more than double the number the Hurricanes have, and in shot scored, three to the Hurricanes’ one. Halfway through, after the second Direwolves’ goal, Arya first noticed the shifty eyed look that Brienne kept sending her way, realizing it always coincided with the high fives and lingering side hugs Gendry gave her when they’d score or there was a penalty called against the Hurricanes. _I’ve got a sinking feeling what that look is for_.

 

The boys were arguing about something, gods knows what, when the buzzer signaled the end of the first period. None of them noticed the pointed looked that Brienne shot Arya, tipping her head just slightly. Arya recognized it’s meaning immediately, she’d seen it from Sansa a million times.

 

“Bri, I’ve gotta use the ladies’, you wanna join?” Brienne agreed as Arya was certain that she would. She turned to Gendry and flashed a quick smile, code for ‘ _I need you to move so I can get out of the booth_.’

 

“Everything alright?” Gendry asked as he moved out of the way.

 

“Stay cool, honey bunny.” She flashed a bright smile at him as she stepped out of the booth. “We’ll be right back. Why don’t you tell them the story about how long it took you to realize I was Ned Stark’s daughter?” She heard Lem say something about women going to the bathroom in pairs as they left the table. _It’s so we can talk about you, you dumb boy._

 

The second that Arya and Brienne were out of earshot, Gendry felt a large hand clap down on his shoulder. When he looked up he saw that it was Jaime. _Great_. “Gendry, man, please tell us you guys aren’t just friends.”

 

“And that she’s got a sister?” He knew that question was from Lem without having to look his direction.

 

“Sorry to upset you, but as of right now, we are just friends. And yea, she’s got a sister, Lem. Not one interested in a relationship with you, she’s already in a picture perfect relationship with a lady in Highgarden,” Gendry explained.

 

“You’re not into her, then?” Jaime asked.

 

“Fuck,” he said. He took his beanie off, ruffling his hair and then pulling it back on. “Of course I am, it’s just… difficult, okay?”

 

“And let me guess, she’s amazing and beautiful, you share a ton of interests and she really gets you… but you don’t wanna ruin the friendship, so you’re settling for awkward hugs, sexual tension thick enough to cut with a knife, and keeping her at arms’ length?”

 

_Shit, Jaime Lannister knows his fucking stuff, doesn’t he?_ Gendry thought. He remembered how long it took for him and Brienne to get together, so he wasn’t entirely surprised that Jaime’s assessment of their relationship is so accurate.

 

“Yep, I’m a real glutton for punishment… can we stop this gossip session now? I don’t want her and Brienne to get back from the bathroom and hear all this. I wonder what’s taking them so long anyways…”

 

XxXxX

 

“ _Be cool, honey bunny_? What the hell was that all about?” Brienne asked. She’d managed to find a few inches of bathroom counter that weren’t flooded with water, and stood leaning against it, waiting for Arya, who apparently actually needed to use the bathroom.

 

“Oh, nothing,” Arya replied back from inside the stall. A few seconds later, the toilet flushed and she came out, then washed her hands in the sink next to Brienne. “Just a nickname from an inside joke. The couple robbing the restaurant in Pulp Fiction. He dislikes it, so of course I keep using it.”

_Ah, young love_ , Brienne thought. _When you do nothing but try to pester the other person_.

 

“So, you and Jaime, huh?”

 

“Me and Jaime.”

 

“I’d be interested to hear that story,” Arya commented, an amused look on her face as she walked over to dry her hands.

 

“I think I was a challenge. He’d been used to getting by on the Lannister name and good looks, and I wasn’t instantly besotted, he reverted to middle school tactics.”

 

“Proverbial pigtail pulling?”

 

“Yep. He was infuriating, until he wasn’t. He found out that two other guys on the team had some bet going on my virginity, and he clocked the one of them in the jaw, right there in the locker room. Hunt got a punch in as well, that’s why Jaime’s nose is a bit crooked.”

 

_Maybe chivalry isn’t dead after all_ , Arya thought, though she was surprised to learn he’d broken it trying to defend Brienne instead of out on the ice. “Makes him look like a proper hockey player.”

 

“Right? But anyways, that’s how I realized there might’ve been more to him than I’d thought, and who really wants to be alone when they can have a chance with someone?”

 

Arya didn’t respond right away, just kept drying her already dry hands.

 

Brienne spoke up again. “Listen, you just met me today and don’t really know me, so there’s no reason to accept my advice… and I’m not gonna say that Gendry _deserves_ a chance, but you should give him one,” Brienne suggested. She walked the few steps to the door and held it open for Arya. “Now, let’s get back before they think we both fell in.”

 

She followed Brienne out of the bathroom and back to their group’s booth. Gendry stood to let Arya back into her spot, and when she scooted back into her spot he returned to his; this time though, his arm circled around her to rest on the top of the booth behind them. Her eyes flicked over to Brienne, certain that she had noticed this, but Jaime’s leaned over and is whispering something, and she’s only got eyes for him. _I could have that_.

 

“Did I miss anything?” Arya asked instead, trying to distract herself.

 

“Tons,” Lem answered. “You were the star of our conversation. We’re all like old women at a hair salon, just missing the curlers.”

 

“You’re full of shit, Lem.” Gendry’s friend seemed to be chock full of snarky replies, and Arya could definitely appreciate that.

 

“Maybe.”

 

Gendry gestured towards the center of the table. “You missed them dropping off nachos.”

 

At that, she turned her attention to the middle of the table, eyes excited when she saw the mountain of nachos piled on a large plate. “See, now that’s the type of news I like to hear.”

 

XxXxX

 

When Arya woke up, she soon realized a couple of things were out of place. The first was her neck, until she recalled that she’d fallen asleep in the passenger seat of Gendry’s Jeep on the ride home from Storms End. The second was that these were most certainly _not_ her sheets. They felt like the flannel ones her family brought out in the middle of winter… except there was no way she’d need them in Kings Landing… _shit_. She opened her eyes as she remembered where she was. _Yup, I’m still at Gendry’s. Who else needs flannel sheets in the sorry excuse for winter that Kings Landing gets?_ Her eyes gradually adjusted to the sunlight streaming into the room and she saw that she was on his couch, then remembered getting back to his apartment after the game, close to two-thirty in the morning. He’d been adamant that she was staying over, joking that he didn’t want to have to find a new Direwolves fan when she fell asleep at the wheel. _And I’d been adamant that I was going to sleep on the couch instead of the bed… because I’m a fucking idiot_. 

 

“You awake out there?” She sat up quickly when she heard him call from the kitchen. Arya couldn’t see him, but she noticed the breakfast smells making their way towards her. “You better be, or else I might have to eat all these pancakes myself.”

 

_He’s making me breakfast_. The thought dawned on her, chest flooding with little warm feelings, which caught her a bit off guard. It seemed so… domestic to her, instantly reminded of the way it was back at home when she was younger - her dad making breakfast on lazy Sunday mornings for everyone, trying to make fun shapes with the pancakes to keep the younger ones amused. _Some days they’d just be regular circles and he’d tell us all they were hockey pucks_. She smiled at that, but shook it off when he called out to her again.

 

“I can hear you moving, Arry. Something wrong?”

 

She threw the flannel sheets off her and stood, noting she’d gone to bed in the tank top she’d worn yesterday under her hoodie and a pair of basketball shorts that had to be Gendry’s, with how long they fell past her knees and how low they sat on her hips. “Nothing’s wrong, just thinking of how long it’s been since I’ve had some home-cooked breakfast.” She turned the corner into the kitchen and was greeted by Gendry handing her a plate of blueberry pancakes, bacon, and a mug full of coffee. His hair was a mess, and he wore a threadbare grey university t-shirt and navy blue joggers, hugging tightly to his legs. He looked goddamn gorgeous and she had to make herself think about the plateful of pancakes he was passing to her, not about the way those pants clung to his ass or how his hair looked like he’d been thoroughly fucked just a few moments earlier. “If this is what it gets me, I might have to start falling asleep on your couch more often.” _Or in your bed. With you. Preferably not wearing your gym shorts_.

 

Looking up when she said that, she saw a telltale redness creep on to Gendry’s face and watched his eyes widen at her, just a touch. _Interesting. Very, very interesting_.


	7. Chapter 7

Gendry was pretty sure he’d lost count of how many times his phone had rang or vibrated since he’d been in the shower, but he decided whoever it was would just have to wait. He had a feeling it was Arya, she had a habit of sending stream of consciousness style texts throughout the day, letting him know whatever was on her mind, from pictures of funny license plates to misbehaving children to  _ can you believe how much they’re charging for parking downtown nowadays _ ? When he got out of the shower, he saw the missed calls and voicemail notification. He tapped the voicemail icon and put the phone on speaker, jumping back a bit in surprise when it wasn’t Arya’s voice he heard, but a grainy recording of part of the chorus to Eddie Money’s Two Tickets to Paradise.

“I’ve got, two tickets to paradise, won’t you pack your bags, we’ll leave tonight,” it sang, followed by a click, and then Arya’s voice. “Hey Gendry, it’s me… we don’t have to leave tonight, but I do have two tickets to paradise… you, me, Winterfell, last regular season game against the Stags…”

Arya’s voicemail didn’t get a chance to finish, he’d already closed the voicemail app and started to call her.

“So I take it you got my voicemail, huh?” she answered, not bothering with a greeting. He could hear the traffic sounds of Kings Landing in the background and knew she had answered in her car. “I’m actually just around the corner from your apartment, if you can wait a few minutes we can talk in person, that way I don’t run over any pedestrians with my car. You’re in luck too, I just picked up some lunch.”

She took the three flights of stairs to his apartment, two steps at a time, and then knocked on the door twice before letting herself in. The instant she was inside, Gendry was right there, pulling her into his arms. She was startled a bit, but let herself sink into him as much as was possible, shifting in his hug since she was still holding on to their lunches and only had one free arm with which to try and hug him back.

“Gods, Arya, you are the fucking best, did you know that?” he told her, still holding on. “You’ve got no idea how much I’ve wanted the chance to actually see a game at the Den in real life, do you?”

“And you’ve got something to wear too, right?” she asked, her voice a bit muffled against his chest. “For the induction ceremony.”

He stilled at that, and she can feel him cock his head to one side before he pulls away from her. His arms that were tight around her back have moved to her forearms as he bends down to look at her.

“…Induction ceremony?”

“Um, yea. I thought you said you listened to my voicemail.”

“... not all of it.” He let go then, realizing that the door to his apartment was actually still open, and his neighbor in 3B was notorious for being extremely nosy. He took the plastic bag of Ghiscari takeout from her, closing the door and setting the takeout bag down on the kitchen table. “I, ugh, I must admit that I called you as soon as you mentioned the Winterfell tickets.”

Arya walked to the kitchen with him, hoisting herself up onto the counter to take a set of plates out of the cupboards. “Well, if you had listened to my entire voicemail, you’d know that we’re also going to the Hockey Hall of Fame induction ceremony the day before the game,” she explained, not bothering to mention that the Hall of Fame building was in Winterfell, as she was sure that Gendry was well aware of that fact. “Usually it wouldn’t be a big deal to skip it, but my dad’s being inducted this year and the league’s retiring his number.” Arya paused, now off the counter and spooning food onto plates. “I guess you don’t have to go to the ceremony, but I’d really like it if you came with me and –”

“Arya, stop,” Gendry interrupted. He took the plates of food from her and motioned towards the living with his head. “Of course, I’ll go with you. Just need to find something to wear, that’s all. I don’t suppose my usual work clothes will do though?”

“Um, no. Mom and Sansa’ll both kill me if you show up in just a blazer and your jeans,” she laughed. “We’ll need to rent you something to wear… and fast. We have to fly up to Winterfall on Thursday evening and…. What’s wrong now?” She looked up from her plate of food to see him pulling a rather confused face.

“Thursday?” he questioned, mouth still half full of food. “As in, this Thursday? And fly?”

“Alright, let’s back up a bit. The Induction ceremony is Friday evening,  _ this Friday _ , the twenty-fifth. We fly out the evening before at six, since any flights Friday morning won’t get us to Winterfell in time. The game against the Stags is the day after Induction.”

“Arya, I can’t afford last minute plane tickets to Winterf—” he started to say, but was cut off when Arya put a hand over his mouth.

“When I said I’ve got two tickets to paradise, Gen, I didn’t just mean the game. Plane tickets are included – package deal, I guess.” She reached over and picked her plate of food back off the coffee table. “Come on, finish eating and then we’ll go over to that tux rental place at the mall.”

XxXxX

Unbeknownst to Arya, it turned out that this trip was going to include a large number of firsts for Gendry.

It was his first time to the north; he’d called her to come over to his apartment on Tuesday and help pack clothes suitable for the cold weather, and ended up driving over to Mormont Outfitters to buy him a proper pair of snow boots. It was going to be his first time watching a pro game. She knew that from the start, but the way he couldn’t stop talking about it was adorable in the same way that little kids can’t stop talking about trips to Disney.

He hadn’t mentioned a damn thing about the flight beforehand, but the second the plane started to accelerate on the runway, his hand flew out and grabbed hers. When she turned to face him, he was already looking at her. “I’ve, um, I’ve never been on a plane before.” He didn’t let go until about forty-five minutes later, when the flight attendant came by.

Sansa and Margaery picked them up at the airport on Thursday night, leaving just enough time to swing by the Wintertown mall branch of the tux rental store before it closed, and then get back to the Stark house for some quick introductions before they were both nodding off on the couch. 

The next new thing she learned, on Friday morning after breakfast with her family, was that Gendry, for all his love of hockey, had never been skating before. Her mother, Sansa, and Margaery were working on dishes and cleaning up the kitchen after breakfast, when Rickon came back in with all the cups and plates that had been piling up in his room over the past week. He asked if they had enough time before the ceremony to go out on the pond, and when their mom confirmed there was plenty, Rickon excitedly declared that he wanted everyone out there, adding “that means you too, mom.”

There was a clamor of noise from everyone around them, talking about getting out gear, or warmer clothes, or grabbing skates from the garage. Arya looked over at Gendry next to her and noticed the look of concern on his face. “You’ll be fine, I’m sure someone has a pair of skates you can borrow, and lord knows that mom never throws away the old pairs either.” 

A sheepish look on his face, he began, “It’s not an equipment issue, exactly… it’s just that I’ve sort of never skated before.”

“Wait, wait, hold up,” she said. “You’re tellin’ me you’ve never been on the ice before? Not even once, not even in street shoes?”

“I didn’t exactly grow up in a place where we just had frozen lakes and ice covering everything half the year,” Gendry reminded her. “You’ve experienced what passes for winter in Kings Landing, they get a centimeter of snow and the whole place shuts down for a week, like it’s the end times.”

“Well, today’s your lucky day,” she told him, pushing down off the kitchen bar stool. She grabbed both their empty plates and walked them over to the sink. “Come on, we better get a move on before everyone else gets out there.”

After changing clothes and finding a pair of skates that would fit, they made their way out the back of the house and he back of the house and down a path to the pond. Arya had grabbed a pair of wooden hockey sticks from the garage before they left, holding on to those as well as both pair of skates on her shoulders, with Gendry following behind her, carrying a green plastic lawn chair. They changed out of their boots and into their skates on a bench on the side of the pond. Arya quickly noticed how loosely he was tying his laces, then grabbed a leg out from under him and set it across her lap. “You’ll break an ankle if you don’t lace these up tighter,” she scolded him, smile displayed widely across her face. 

“Ya know, I had a dream about this,” Arya said, out of nowhere. It’s about twenty minutes later, and after helping him around the shoveled off area of the pond, his hands clinging onto the back of the lawn chair for dear life, Arya decided it was time to graduate. His legs felt like newborn baby giraffe legs when she first had him try without the chair, unsure about how to act on the new slippery surface. Arya took her place in front of him, skating backwards with her arms out in front of her, ready to catch Gendry if he needed her. 

“You did?” He hit an air bubble in the ice and his right leg caught, sending him off balance. Arya’s hands shot out quickly, grabbed Gendry’s and steadied him. She kept a hold of him even after he was steady, then started to increase the pace of the oval they were making.

She nodded. “First night I’d met you actually. I was playing hockey with everyone, Robb, Rickon, even my dad was there… but we were out on the big lake.” She saw the look her gave her and shook her head. “Not this one, there’s a big one out near our cabin. I went to find someone to pass to and as I looked around you were there.”

“Was I doing better than I am today?

“Unfortunately, dream Gendry was only marginally better at hockey than real Gendry.”

At that moment, Rickon zoomed past expertly, stick in hand, handling the puck with ease as he passed as close to her and Gendry as he can, without actually hitting them. It sent Gendry wobbling again, Arya’s hands found his biceps through his jacket and grab ahold tightly. “I got you,” she reassured him, letting him get his bearings once more. “Go easy on him, Rickon. He just graduated from the lawn chair.” He started to get the hang of it after a while, and soon everyone else had joined them. He wasn’t actually playing hockey by any stretch of the word, more like skating around on the pond using a hockey stick for support, but her brothers had taken mercy on him, giving him easy passes and thankfully not checking him. 

Not used to using these muscles, he made his way across the ice, back to the bench where Mrs. Stark was sitting.

“You’re learning quickly, Gendry,” she said, patting the empty bit of bench beside her. “And I’m glad to see Ned’s old skates are getting some ice time.”

He paled. “These are  _ his _ skates?” Catelyn nodded. “I’m sorry to be skating so poorly on them.”

“Nonsense. You didn’t know my husband, but this?” she started, gesturing out at the pond. “The whole family and their friends out here on the ice, this was his favorite. He loved teaching people to skate too. You’re not doing those skates a disservice, you’re honoring them.”

They sat in silence a few minutes, until Arya’s voice rang out across the ice. “You gettin’ back out here? Don’t make me think I gave you a lesson for nothing.”

“You best get out there,” Catelyn said. “It’s not good to leave Arya waiting.”

Using the hockey stick to help him back onto the ice, he made his way back to the action, finding he needed its support less and less as the game went on.  _ You can do this _ , he told himself.  _ Gotta make real life Gendry just as good as dream Gendry. _

XxXxX

Mrs. Stark had hired a couple of large SUVs and drivers to chauffeur the full crew back and forth from the Hall of Fame induction ceremony. Robb arrived together with them, but was quickly pulled away by the event planner and then the media, giving a few interviews and taking pictures with other teammates and players. Arya was glad that Gendry seemed to fit in well with her family - she’d seen him sitting and talking with her mother earlier in the day, while they were out skating, and while she wasn’t sure what they’d talked about, it seemed to have been friendly. From the way things looked now, Sansa and Margaery had certainly taken Gendry under their wings. Both women had pulled him away from where he’d stood with Arya in line for the bar, loudly announcing that they needed to share all sorts of childhood stories about Arya. 

If anything, Arya decided to make a mental note to buy her sister and Margaery some sort of amazing gift basket as a thank you for picking out her dress for the evening. Not only did they save her the hassle of having to actually go dress shopping, which truthfully deserved thanks in itself, but based on the look on Gendry’s face when he saw her come down the stairs at home earlier, Sansa and Maggy had certainly knocked it out of the park with their pick. She hadn’t been sure what to think when her sister unzipped the dress bag and presented her with a floor length silvery-gray gown, featuring thousands of intricately sewn-on sequins, a low-cut neckline, and absolutely zero back. She did a full circle turn at the bottom of the stairs, and the gob-smacked look on Gendry’s face made this entire trip worth it. Her mother brought a coat over for her, and she feigned interest in getting her coat situated in order to get a better look at Gendry. 

Yet another first for the trip: seeing the way he filled out the tuxedo they’d rented for him. The other day at the mall, the clerk had only taken his measurements and Arya had picked out the tux. Not exactly an expert on men’s formalwear, the man at the store ensured her the tuxedo would go well with his coloring - a Tom Ford navy blue jacket with black lapels, and matching black pants and bow tie. She made a mental note to ask Gendry later how many times he had to watch the same YouTube tutorial before he got the bowtie done correctly. It’s the most dressed up that Arya has seen him by far, the previous ‘dressed up’ standard being a couple of Thursdays when he hadn’t changed out of his button down and blazer after work. His hair was still a bit unruly, but she instantly decided that she liked the contrast between the designer suit and the way he’d obviously tried and failed to tame his hair.  _ I might have to send that guy at the tux store a gift basket too _ , she thought. 

Gendry joined back up with her a little while later, a plate full of appetizers coming along with him. Not long after, an announcement was made to ask the guests to take their seats for the start of the Induction ceremony. They were sat at one of the two large round tables reserved for the Stark crew. The league commissioner opened with a welcome speech, and then gave the stage over to the two hosts - Barristan Selmy, a well-known coach for Kings Landing from the seventies, who was inducted last year, and one of the female commentators from Westeros Sports Network. There were a handful of other Hall of Fame inductees, and they knew from Robb’s rundown earlier on the ride over that Ned would be the last one. 

The house lights were lowered as a video starts to play on the large screen behind the podium. It’s a montage of old footage of Ned Stark from Direwolf games, old pictures from childhood, and even some family video scenes they’ve must’ve received from Catelyn. Interlaced throughout are a number of clips of retired hockey players, coaches, and other industry people telling quick stories about either playing with or against him, or how he influenced them. When the lights came up again, the league commissioner was on stage at the podium, inviting Robb to come up and accept the honor on his father’s behalf. 

The full room stands when Robb walks up from their table to accept the award, a roar of thunderous applause going through the banquet hall. Gendry had expected that Arya would cheer along with the rest of the crowd, but instead when he looked down at her, he noticed that her eyes were watery and she’s having a hard time looking anywhere except for the tops of his shoes or the back of chair at the table next to them. Gendry could tell that she was trying her damnedest to keep it together, and when he heard her breath hitch in her throat, he stepped closer and placed his hand on the small of her back. He’d somehow forgotten that her dress was backless until his hand met bare skin.

“Just breathe, Arry,” he said softly, just loud enough so she’d hear him over the applause. “You’ll be fine.”

“I know, it’s just…”

“Hey, I know.” He moved his hand from her back to her waist, then tucked her into his side. “I know.”

They both took their seats again when Robb arrived at the podium and the room quieted. He knew he should try to pay attention to his speech, he really did, but when they sat down, Arya scooted her chair up flush with his, leaning up against his shoulder. She took his hand in hers, laced their fingers together, and held it in her lap with her other hand.  _ Yep, definitely not paying attention now _ . 

“…and I can’t tell you how incredibly proud I am, that when we play our final regular season game tomorrow night, that I’ll be able to look up from center ice and see the Number 11 banner hanging from the rafters of the Wolf Den.” Robb finished his speech, holding up the trophy they’d presented him.

She got to her feet quickly this time, pulling Gendry up with her. His hand is released from hers and she started clapping. She looked up at him then, flashing a toothy smile that he knew probably looked genuine to everyone else, but he can still see the slight puffiness around her eyes from when they threatened to cry not ten minutes earlier.  _ There’s no fooling me, Arya.  _

XxXxX

The car ride back to the Stark house was quiet. Arya had volunteered herself and Gendry to take the first trip back home, while the rest stayed and mingled a while longer. The chauffeur had tuned the radio to a local station, and they listened in silence, both flashing little smirks at each other when the driver sang along off-key to the music.

“I’m sorry about that earlier,” Arya apologized as she unlocked the front door and let them inside. She flipped on the foyer lights and hung their coats up in the front closet. “You didn’t need to see me get like that. All emotional and shit. I don’t want you to worry about me.”

“I’m not worried.”

“No?” she asked, his nonchalant reply catching her off guard.

“He’s your father, Arya, and tonight was a big deal for you, and him, and the rest of your family. If you weren’t emotional right now I’d be worried.”

“You’re right, but still. Thank you.” She reached out like she meant to take his hand again, then pulled back quickly. “Oh wait, I just remembered I have something for you upstairs!” Her tone had completely flipped back to the normal, excitable Arya he was used to. She grabbed the skirt of her dress from both sides, gathering it up in her hands, and told him to follow her upstairs.

“Was this your room?” he asked, taking a few steps into the room at the end of the hallway that she led him to. The second he took a look around the room he knew it was a dumb question. The walls were covered in posters for punk bands, Tarantino movies, and past Direwolves lineups. Next to the bed, there was a bookshelf filled with trophies and plaques, but very few books.

“Yep. Those posters are strategically placed. I got in trouble a few times for hitting pucks into the drywall, if you can believe that.”

“Oh, I can,” he agreed, his voice playful. Arya responded exactly the way he’d anticipated.  When she scoffed and pulled her hand back to try to punch him in the arm, he was prepared, just laughing off her attempt and catching her fist with his hand before it even got close to him. “Now, what’s this you’ve got for me?”

“Right, right. One second. You’re gonna love it.”  She grabbed his hand and pushed him towards the bed to sit.  _ Well, this was not where I saw this night going _ , he started to think, but instead of joining him, she turned around and headed to her closet, coming back with a package wrapped in snowflake-printed wrapping paper and a giant shiny blue bow.

She handed it to him and jumped onto her bed next to him, hiking up the heavy skirt on her dress so she can sit cross-legged. “I had Sansa wrap it. There’s no way I could make it this nice,” she explained, seeing the way he was eyeing the expertly wrapped box. “Go on, open it.”

He pulled the bow and paper off, crumpling the paper and setting it aside, then taking the blue bow and sticking it to the top of Arya’s head. She rolled her eyes, but didn’t bother to pull the bow off. He pulled off the two pieces of tape that held the box closed, setting the lid behind him on the bed, and peeling back the tissue paper until he could see what was inside. He’s greeted by dark gray mesh fabric and a World Hockey League embroidered patch, and then he saw it - 

_ Stark, 11. _

“Arya…” he started, his voice quiet and trailing off. He pulled the jersey out of the box, staring at it in disbelief. It matched the one he’d seen her wear over and over again. “You didn’t have to…”

“Quiet,” she interrupted, not wanting to hear what she knew he was going to say. She knew she didn’t  _ have _ to get him anything, that’s not the point. “Happy Winter Solstice, Gendry.”

She watched as his eyes went back and forth between her and the jersey in his hands, and he had this look on his face that makes her proud, since he had no idea it was coming. It also made her stomach do little roller coaster flips because he’s looking at her like this gift was everything, like  _ she _ was everything. So she shouldn’t be surprised when he reached out and pulled her to him. She didn’t react quickly enough to untuck her feet so they’re hanging off the bed instead of crossed under her, so instead she went up on her knees. It's much different from their normal hugs, since she’s on the same level as him now; normally, her head goes somewhere against his chest or into his side, but this time he’s got his face tucked in beside her neck. The proximity was making it hard to concentrate, with his warm breath on her neck, and one arm supporting her and holding flush against him, his hand lazily rubbing circles on the exposed skin on her back. She reveled in the way it feels being pulled so close to him in just her formal dress, the flimsy silk fabric allowing her to feel all the warmth coming off his chest the way her flannel button downs and his hoodies never do.

“I don’t know how to thank you for this trip, Arry.”  _ I’ve got a few ideas _ , she thought, but kept her mouth clamped shut as he pulled away to look at her. This would normally be the time for her to make some snappy comment back, but she couldn’t bring herself to ruin this moment. “Your family barely knows me and just welcomed me into their home like I’m a part of them. And I know the whole Induction part and black tie thing is par for the course, normal, for you… for fuck’s sake, do you have any idea how beautiful you look tonight?”

“You clean up pretty good yourself.” Self-conscious, not wanting him to see the way his comment made her blush, she leaned forward to rest her forehead against his.

He ignored her comment and continued, “It’s just, gods I’m bad at this, but –”

“Gendry, I know, I –”

They jumped apart immediately at the sound of her bedroom door flinging open and banging the door stop again the wall.  _ Rickon. I’m gonna hip check the piss outta that kid the next time we play _ , Arya decided.

“Arry! That’s where you went.” He turned and faced back to the hallway, completely oblivious to what he’d interrupted as he yelled down the stairs. “Mum! I found her!” Satisfied, he paused a beat and turned towards them. “Mum wants to see you downstairs before you go to bed. Something about planning food for tomorrow and then the fitting for Sansa and Maggy’s bridesmaid dresses.” When he stopped, the expression changed on his face, and he looked between the two of them. “What’re you two doing up here anyways?”

A look of panic crossed Arya’s face, but then Gendry piped up. “Arry got me a sweet Ned Stark jersey for Winter Solstice,” he explained as he held it up. “A little belated, but I think she had it delivered up here so I could wear it for the game tomorrow.”

“Oh, neat. Good job, sis. Just in time for the big game, eh?”

Apparently that explanation was enough, since Rickon left the room without another word, and they heard him stomp back down the stairs. They both let out a breath they didn’t know they were holding, and Arya reluctantly got up from the bed. “I suppose I better get downstairs before my mother gets mad.”  _ Or comes up here _ , Arya thought.  _ She’s not quite as oblivious as Rickon is _ .

“Yea, probably for the best.” He folded the jersey up and returned it to the box, putting the lid back on and standing up. “I should probably get to bed, I didn’t realize how late it was.” Gendry made an obvious glance at the alarm clock on top of her nightstand. It wasn’t late, only just after ten.  _ Looks like neither of us is above just making excuses now though _ . He followed her out into the hallway, heading towards the spare room he’d been given for the weekend.

“Night, Arry.”

“Night, Gendry,” she replied back. Her voice was resigned, and he knew it sounded just like his did.

He got into this room, flipped the light to the left of the door and set the gift box on the desk. He carefully took off the rental tuxedo, hanging it over the desk chair, then flopped down onto the pull-out couch in his boxer briefs. _What a fucking night_ , Gendry thought. _She’s gonna be the death of me._


	8. Chapter 8

Arya had made sure to call her mom when the Winterfell trip plans were first decided, and was able to get seats at the glass, even though her family had a permanent box at the arena. It was special, she wanted it to be that way at least, and when she learned that he’d never sat against the glass… or the bottom half of the arena at all, and that the only games he had attended before college games. She decided that this was the one special thing that could push this over the top for him.  _ Well, aside from the jersey _ , she thought, looking over at him. They were twins today, both in matching Ned Stark jerseys, though his was not nearly as long on him as hers was.

For staying in the same house, they didn’t see much of each other in the time before the game, or at the least, whenever they were in each other’s company they were never alone, never had the time to broach the elephant in the room looming above them, of what the hell exactly was going to happen in her bedroom last night if Rickon hadn’t barged in. They ate breakfast together mid-morning with her entire family, and then her brothers had gotten it in their heads to give Gendry a snowmobile tour of their property and then take the trails into Wintertown for a late lunch before the game. Before she left for the dress fitting with her sister, the last she saw of Gendry was him with Jon and Bran in the garage, giving him a run down of how to drive a snowmobile while Rickon searches through a plastic tub, hurriedly trying to find an extra snowsuit that would fit him. 

They drove to the arena with everyone else, filling all the seats in the minivan, with Sansa and Margaery having to drive separately. She didn’t even let him see the tickets before the game, just handed both pieces of paper to the security guard at the front entrance. She told Gendry to follow her, and then walked to the right around the main concourse, almost to the exact opposite end side of the arena from where they entered. Stopping abruptly, she snuck a glance at her tickets and then up at the number painted on the wall to make sure it was the correct section. Arya pushed her way through the heavy curtain, immediately smiling when she finally felt the chill from the ice. The usher checked their tickets, then they continued all the way down until the concrete steps ended. She stepped in the front row, taking the second seat in and gesturing at the first one for him. He had this look of complete wonder on his face, one that she thought she’d only seen on young children before, one that on most men his age would be embarrassing and off-putting, but she found it almost endearing when it’s on him. Arya decided she especially liked knowing she was the one helped put it there.

“Shouldn’t we be sitting with the rest of your family?” he asked as he took the seat next to her. “I think I heard Sansa say something about their box seats yesterday.”

“I mean, yea, but I could’ve sworn you’d like this a hell of a lot better than being crowded up in a suite with my family.”

“Of course I like this,” he started, running a hand through his hair. She knew by now that was a sign meaning he wasn’t exactly sure how to put his thoughts into words. “It’s just… I know you grew up with all of this,” he said, gesturing around them, “So sitting here, this close and… shit, that’s the goal the Direwolves will shoot on for two periods, isn’t it… this is probably all so normal to you, but just… Thank you. Thank you, Arya. Gods, if there is anything I can do to make up for this…”

“Make it up to me, huh? Well, I usually start off each hockey game with a giant Diet Coke and some of those little donut holes. It’s kind of a tradition for me. We can go up to the suite between periods for some real food if you like, but concession stand donuts are a must.”

He shot a look over to the clock around center ice, counting down the time until the face-off. There was ten minutes remaining. “Come on, plenty of time for snacks. I’m buying.” He offered his hand out to her and she took it immediately took it.  _ I mean, those steps up to the main deck are super steep. And dangerous. Yes, that’s right, you can never be too cautious.   _

XxXxX

They’re back in plenty of time, two giant sodas and two little carrying cases from some donut place he’s never even heard of before, but the line had tripled in size while they’d waited it in, so he figured it must be some big Northern secret. He realizes exactly how good their seats are once the puck is dropped – they’re not only front row, but they’re on the side where the Direwolves will shoot at for the first and third periods, and they’re just on the curve of the ice. He realized not five minutes into the first period that she was enjoying something else aside from the hockey, which was watching him jump each and every time someone was checked into the glass in front of them.

“It’s a little bit harder to see everything, when you’re up against the glass like this,” she says, a few seconds after he craned his head to look down the ice at a breakaway, “But it’s worth it to be close to the action, and you can’t get any closer than this… well, you could, but you’d be in the net with the Stags’ goalie and I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t appreciate it.”

He soon realized that Arya is  _ that _ person… the one you see on television, standing up at the glass, pounding their fists on it and yelling, especially when someone is checked into the boards or two players are battling over who has the puck right in front of her, that crazed fan you see in the background of a newspaper sports section picture.

During the middle of the second period, the Stags’ coach called a timeout, and Gendry sat with his head craned up at the big screen above center ice, watching to see what they were going to do for audience participation. He secretly wished for them to bring out the t-shirt gun, or maybe for the free pizza.  _ Or more donut holes _ , he hoped. Arya was checking her phone, most likely texting her family in their suite or giving unsolicited advice to Robb, even though she knew he wouldn’t see it until well after the game. The screen clicked over to the audience participation was, and all coherent thought was sucked out of him when he realized the camera was on the two of them, and it was definitely  _ not _ the t-shirt gun.  _ Oh, shit _ .

“Um, Arya… we’re on the big screen.” He set his drink on the ledge in front of them and poked her arm.

“So? Just yell or do a silly dance like it wants you to, or…” she started to say, then finally looked up from her phone. Sure as hell, there they were up on the big screen, with a pink heart and flying cupids superimposed around them.  _ Fuck me, godsdamned Kiss Cam. _

She sighed, setting her phone on the ledge, and sat back in her seat, turning to face him fully. She’d be lying to herself if she said she didn’t want to kiss him, kiss his adorable, stupid face off, right from the moment they sat on the curb under that streetlight outside of the Bear, to just an hour ago when he was in awe of their proximity to the ice.  _ And I’m pretty sure that feeling is mutual, especially after last night _ . She reached over and put her right hand on his thigh, applying just enough pressure so that she knew she had his full attention.

“Kiss me, Gendry.”

He didn’t hesitate, like she thought he would, didn’t scan her face for any hint that she might not be serious. He reached over, fisting his right hand in her hair and hauling her to him, a bit more roughly than she’d expected. His lips were cold from chilly air of the arena, and when she’s decided she’s had enough his chaste kisses, she runs her tongue along his bottom lip and he immediately opens for her, and oh, now she’s completely lost. She thought she faintly heard applause from the audience, like they normally do when the ‘hesitant’ couple finally kisses, but all she is capable of registering in her head is how he tastes sweet, like the cinnamon sugar donut holes he stole from her earlier, how he’s kissing her properly now, all shyness long gone, as if this isn’t their first kiss, and _ gods _ , she thinks,  _ why the fuck haven’t we don’t this long before now? _

After what seemed like forever, he finally pulled away, but kept close, leaning his forehead against hers. “Arya…we can’t makeout here.” He sounded out of breath and she wanted nothing more than to say ‘screw it’ and kiss him again, but she knew he had a point. She snuck a look out at the ice and saw that the timeout was over and they’d already dropped the puck again.

“Later?”

“Definitely later,” he promised. He sat back up, pushed a bit of her bangs off her forehead, then pressed a kiss to the newly exposed skin. Arya reached for her phone from the ledge, and moved to lean against him, but before she can there’s a Stag player getting checked into the glass right in front of them and Gendry’s jumping out of the way, as if #44 is actually coming through the glass at him.

“Gods!” he yelled. “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to that.” He finally pulled her into this side, as far as he could with the armrest in the way, and she grabbed her phone, showing him the new texts messages she has, thanks to their very public kiss.

_ Bran Stark: Mom says that she “saw that, young lady” _

_ Sansa Stark: Holy crap, did you just kiss Gendry on the kiss cam???? That was so adorable. _

_ Sansa Stark: wait, Arya, you said you weren’t dating him? Did you lie to me? _

“Inquiring minds want to know if we’re dating,” Arya said, still pressed into his side. She held her phone out to him. “You wanna reply?”

He took the phone from her, holding it in his non-dominant hand. It took longer for him to reply left-handed, and while she couldn’t see exactly what he was doing from her angle, she started to get curious about the amount of swiping he was doing. When he finally finished what he was doing, he turned the phone to show her, pleased with himself about the silly grin that emerged on her face as she read the phone. “Oh, fuck, that’s perfect. Do it,” she agreed. He tapped once more and then handed her phone back.

Not ninety seconds later, Arya’s phone buzzed again.

_ Sansa Stark: YOU MADE IT FACEBOOK OFFICIAL BEFORE TELLING ME  _

_ Sansa Stark: YOU LITTLE SHIT _

_ Margaery Tyrell: I’ve confiscated Sansa’s phone, enjoy the game, you lovebirds.  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone following this story for your kudos and comments! Only a short epilogue left now.


	9. Chapter 9

**Epilogue – Six Months Later**

Arya bounded up the three flights of stairs to Gendry’s apartment, taking two steps at a time like she normally does when she’s running late. This time it was the traffic, a five-car pile-up on the Kingsroad and she got to wait while all the gawkers slowed down to try and get a good look at the jack-knifed semi that had been leading the pack. She knocked twice and let herself in when she got to his door, by now she’s all but foregone waiting for him to let her in anymore, especially when they both know she’s coming over.  

“Hey, Gen, sorry I’m late. You got my text, yea?” she asked, closing the door behind her.

He got up, took the tote back of snacks from her, placing it on the table and helping her out of her raincoat. It was mid-June, prime time for midsummer rains that barreled in from Storms End and the coast. The hockey season was long over, with the Direwolves in the play-offs as usual, but losing in the third round of the tournament to White Harbor, who went on to win in the final round against the Stags. They both would’ve loved to see another Direwolves championship, making it two in a row, but when all was said in done, she was glad it’s another northern team that won, especially against the Stags.  _ I’d hate to have to live in Kings Landing after a Stags championship. They’d never stop reminding me about it. _

“Yea, I got your text. That accident is all the news has been talking about for the last hour, you’re actually here sooner than I’d expected.” He hung her coat up next to the door, then bent down to kiss her hello, her going up on her tip-toes to meet him halfway. “Food’s on the coffee table if you wanna get started, I’m just gonna grab the bread from the oven.”

She nodded her head, not needing to be told twice to go eat dinner. “This smells amazing. Especially after this day I’ve had. I woke up to a barrage of texts from Sansa about that girls’ weekend she’s planned,” Arya began. Sansa had accepted a position at the Kings Landing Times two months ago, moved down to the city with Margaery, now her wife, in tow, and had been using her newfound proximity to her sister as the catalyst to better their relationship. “Then, when I got to work, Professor Redwyne was a half hour late to the staff meeting that  _ he _ set up, the coffee was burnt in the break room so it smelled like hot ass in there all day…”

“Gross,” Gendry volunteered from the kitchen. She could hear him fumbling with the oven, as she grabbed her phone out of her backpack and headed towards the living room.  

“Right? And then later, ya know that 2pm class I teach? Well, their mid-term papers were due today and I swear I think only had half of --”

She stopped dead in her tracks when she saw the table. It was set for pasta night, her favorite and the usual for a Wednesday, but there’s a new addition to the table setting – a small box, one of those tiny sapphire blue Tarth & Co. jewelry boxes like Sansa and Maggy both had for their matching engagement rings.  _ What in the good sweet fuck… no. It can’t be... I'm not at all ready for this. _

She was still standing there staring when Gendry walked up from behind her and placed the basket of bread down on the coffee table. “I see you found it.” He’s so nonchalant about it that she has to tamp down the quick burst of anger she felt.

“Gendry… is this? Are you…?” Her eyes were going rapid fire between the little blue box in the middle of her dinner plate and to him, sitting on the couch as if this isn’t a big deal. “Oh gods, oh gods, oh gods…”  _ Is this what it feels like to have a heart attack? I think this is what it feels like. _

“Arya, sit, please.” He reached up and grabbed her hands, tugging her down towards the couch. He picked up the box and placed it in her hands. “Go on, open it.”

_ Face the music, Arya _ , she told herself, keeping her eyes on him as she removed the lid, not looking inside until she couldn’t put it off any longer. She let out a breath when she realized it was not an engagement ring. Setting the lid down on the table, she pulled out a single key on a silver key chain shaped like a hockey stick, little lines for tape around the bottom and everything.

“Wait, so you’re not asking me to marry you?”

“What? No, no…,” he explained, then noticed a look on her face that was almost 100% relief, but tinged with just the faintest hint of disappointment. “I mean, I guess I can see how this exact box is a little misleading, but I’m not asking you to marry me… not yet, at least.”

“Then what’s this for? I’ve had a key to your apartment for months.”

“I was hoping that maybe this could be  _ our _ apartment,” Gendry explained. He watched as Arya’s eyes widened in understanding, but instead of answering or laughing at him, or any reaction he could’ve anticipated, she bolted off the couch and had her cell phone up to her ear before Gendry realized what was happening. “Arya, what’re you --,” he started, then quieted once she began to talk. 

“Hey, Sans.... what? Ugh, yes, I’m still going to girls’ weekend… it’s just, can you ask Maggy if I can borrow her pickup tomorrow?” She paused, listening to her sister’s reply. She’d seen Gendry leave the couch from the corner of her eye, and felt him come up to her from behind. He wrapped his arms around her front and tucked her head under his chin. “Yes, I’m moving in with Gendry… well, I’m glad you think it’s about time… what? No, for fuck’s sake, I’m 24, I can handle telling mom myself… okay, I’ll text Maggy about tomorrow.” 

When she hung up, he held the key out in front of her, dangling it near her eye level. “So, should I take that as a yes?”

“Of course, it’s a yes!” She grabbed the key and turned around as ducked out of his arms, going up on her tiptoes to kiss him, but quickly pulling away. “Can we eat now?” Her stomach rumbled loudly then, as if on cue. “I’m practically starving, Gendry.”

Gendry laughed, that warm and genuine laugh of his that comforted instead of made fun of her. “Come on, then.” He took her hand and led her back towards the couch. “Can’t have you starving to death before you even move your things in.”


End file.
